


Closed Circuit

by helens78



Category: Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace
Genre: Drugs, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-11-16
Updated: 2003-11-16
Packaged: 2017-10-05 11:35:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/41323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/helens78/pseuds/helens78
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Xanatos takes Obi-Wan and Siri on an undercover mission to rescue missing operatives.  It's a challenge for everyone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Closed Circuit

Seeing Xan on spice is the most frightening thing I've ever had to deal with on a mission. It's one thing to see a knight or a master in battle, even being shot, but seeing Xan take in something as dangerous as spice on purpose -- when he has things to manage like his cover story, looking after me and Obi-Wan, coming up with a way to find the operatives who've gone missing -- gave me cold chills. It really brought home the sorts of things I'll have to do if I want to continue in covert ops.

Compared to spice, seducing Jassock's second-in-command and hacking into his terminal will be easy. Obi-Wan and I found a quiet corner while Xan was purging the spice from his system and came up with a plan. My job was to go find Tam and lure him back to his room; Obi-Wan's job is to show up while we're in the middle of the action -- hopefully before I have to do anything too drastic -- and bring along something we can use to knock Tam out.

So far, so good. Tam's lips are on mine, and his hands are all over my body. We're making our way down the hall, and it's taking some time, because every time we get more than two or three steps, one or the other of us is giving a grope or a kiss or a tickle, and it turns into something more. This is particularly interesting, because given the way he was staring at Xan when we first got here, I was _sure_ he wasn't interested in me. But it looks like I've finally run into a man who isn't slack, which is a nice change of pace.

We're only three doors away from his room now. I wonder if we're going to end up fucking out here in the hallway. I never really expected to have to fuck someone in order to get a mission objective completed, but he's not half-bad looking. He's young, his body's nice enough, and those braids of his -- well, they're just adorable. I twist my fingers up in them, and he lets out a soft chuckle. "Like braids?" he murmurs.

"Oh, I like _lots_ of things," I purr at him. "Come on, aren't we there yet?" I pout my lower lip out at him, and he leans forward and sinks his teeth into it, tugging sharply. I have to curl my fingers into fists in order to keep from shoving him off me -- that _hurts_, damn it. Ugh, maybe this wasn't such a perfect plan. Still, if I can get him into his quarters, and if Obi-Wan manages his end of the plan, that's all that matters.

Tam pulls away and heads to his quarters, and he keys in the combination -- one-six-seven-six-two-three-one -- and then tugs me inside. "Come here, baby," he growls. A little overdramatic for my tastes, but that's all right. He pulls me through the outer room toward his bedroom, and on our way there we pass his terminal. _Ah ha._ It's an older model, a Philon 1938-x, and if he hasn't installed the fifteen firmware upgrades for it -- and I'll bet he hasn't -- there's a nasty security bug in that thing just screaming to be exploited. _Perfect_.

I let him pull me into the bedroom and then watch as he climbs back into the bed. I stand at the side of it and draw my hands down from my neck, over my breasts, to my waist, and down to my thighs, undulating as if there's music. "Well, now," I tease, "what_ever_ shall we do here? What's your fancy, big boy?" He's so _not_ big. It's funny how men his size just love hearing that phrase.

"I think I want to see a little show," he grins. "Take your clothes off for me and turn around."

Oh, better and better. If he likes to _watch_, then the part of this plan that's going to happen with Obi-Wan here will work even better. I grin at him and run one hand back up the center of my body, skimming it over my stomach, my breasts, and then my throat, and I suck two of my fingers into my mouth. "There's no music," I pout. "I'd dance for you if there were music."

Tam leans over to his nightstand and flicks on a battered radio. The sound quality is just awful, and it's not very loud, but at least there's a beat to it. I begin dancing for him, swinging my hips from side to side, caressing myself and using my hands to attract his attention to certain parts of my body. He smiles and settles into the bed to watch.

There's only so long I can keep this up without actually removing clothes, but the vest I'm wearing has laces down the front, so I can make this little striptease last a while. I slowly untie the leather strip lacing it closed and slide it out one eyelet at a time. Tam watches and nearly salivates on his own chest. He's going to be _easy_.

I finally get the laces pulled out, and toss the leather cord to him in the bed. He takes it and coils it up around a hand, leering at me, which makes me wonder if maybe I shouldn't have put that thought in his head. Now he's got something that could be used to tie me up. Oh well -- nothing to do now except continue the game, I suppose. I slide out of my vest and let it fall to the floor, revealing my breasts -- both nipples pierced now, which probably wasn't necessary for the mission but seemed like a fun idea at the time. Kenobi, where _are--_

The door buzzes, and I channel the sigh of relief I'd like to let out into a soft pout. Tam scowls and yells, "What do you want?"

And to Tam's surprise, but certainly not to mine, I hear a teasing male voice respond, "It's a delivery call."

"Delivery--?" Tam begins, but by this time I'm heading back to the door, tossing him a wink over my shoulder. He says "_ohhhh_" behind me -- catches on fast, doesn't he? -- and lets me open the door.

It's Obi-Wan, of course, and the first thing he does when I open the door for him is stare at my breasts. Force, it's as if he's never seen a pair before. I guess he's never seen mine this close up, and never with rings through my nipples. At least he looks like he's stunned from lust and not like he's rethinking this whole plan -- probably just a good acting job. Well, two can play at that game. I run a hand up my chest and flick a thumb at my nipple ring, then wink at him. "Come on in, sweetheart. This party was just getting started."

"Right," he says, a little rattled. He follows me inside, and I lead him to Tam, who's grinning even wider now. Obi-Wan goes straight over to the bed and leans over to kiss Tam's throat. No subtlety at all.

"Well, hello again," Tam says to Obi-Wan. "Miss me?"

"I didn't want to let Aris have all the fun," Obi-Wan grins. "Mind if I join you two?"

"Not at all. Aris was just giving me a very pretty show..." Tam looks at me and twirls a finger in the air, as if signaling me to turn around. "Want to keep it up, honey?"

"Sure thing, sugar," I grin, and turn around, looking over my shoulder and licking my lips for the boys.

"I've got something else for you," Obi-Wan whispers. "Something from downstairs..."

"Ohhh," Tam whispers. "You're such a good boy. Your boss must love having you... _under_ him."

"Believe me," Obi-Wan says, although I hear a slight element of dryness in his words. I turn around, still dancing, and Obi-Wan is pouring a bit of blue powder over his fingers -- Paradigm Shift, the first drug we could think of where cutting a bit of sedative into it and knocking someone out with it would make perfect sense. As the name implies, you never quite know what you're going to get with it. Rumor has it that you can get quite the hard-on from Paradigm Shift, but of course I wouldn't know.

Tam licks the powder off Obi-Wan's fingers, and then draws Obi-Wan's hand down the center of his body, cupping his crotch with it and rubbing up against Obi-Wan's palm. Obi-Wan takes over, caressing between Tam's legs with nice firm movements. He chuckles and leans his head into Tam's neck. "Guess it's true what they say about Paradigm Shift," he murmurs.

"Yeah," Tam whispers, "it's... mmm."

And then he's out, falling back hard against the pillows.

I grin at Obi-Wan. "Nice," I tell him. "Is he really packed?"

"Yeah," Obi-Wan says, looking down at Tam with a small amount of regret. "Guess we'd better get started, huh?"

I snort. "Just get him undressed while I get access to his files." I look at Tam's position on the bed and raise an eyebrow at Obi-Wan. "You know, it'd be more convincing if there were a spent barrier somewhere. You could grab one and jerk off..." He can't tell whether I'm serious or not, and neither can I. I raise my hands to ward off whatever remark he's about to make. "Or not. Maybe I should get to work."

"Maybe you should," he sniffs, waving me toward Tam's terminal. I hotfoot it out of the bedroom, not bothering to pick up my vest. Obi-Wan will bring it out to me when he's done here.

It pays having spent the last few months in close proximity -- _very_ close proximity -- with the top-rated technical expert at the Temple. Well, top-rated _padawan_ technical expert, but that's good enough. Keli knows things even his master doesn't. Breaking Tam's security system isn't as easy as it would be if I had a droid to do the dirty work, but thanks to the slightly obsolete hardware -- and Tam did _not_, as it turns out, apply all his firmware upgrades -- I know a number of tricks to get me through the security system and into Jassock's clientele files. Even with the initial security holes he's got at his terminal, though, bypassing the encryption algorithm isn't easy. It would be a two-hour job at the least if Keli hadn't taught me how to use a hexadecimal passcode key mirrored onto a simple query string.

This mission has been one hell of an introduction to covert ops, I'll give it that. It's interesting not having the Temple to fall back on if we get in trouble. I doubt Obi-Wan has figured that out yet -- just how on our own we are. The fact that we ourselves are on a rescue mission does not change the fact that the master and padawan out here have been missing for who-knows-how-long, and no one knows what's been done to them in the meantime. They may not even be alive.

Still, at least we know their cover names. Xan hasn't told us their _real_ names -- even he doesn't know them -- but if I can just find any trace of a "Char Mentassa" or an "Olin Brann"...

The console bleeps obligingly, signaling my access to the file system, and I jump a meter. "Delete audio," I murmur. New rule: whenever hacking into a system where it's vital I don't get caught, make certain the blasted thing doesn't have bells and whistles in the literal sense.

Now, then. On to the search. My fingers pass lightly over the input panel, and I ask the computer to search for those names. Nothing to do now but wait.

Obi-Wan comes up to me, holding my vest. "The, uh, cord for the front -- it's still wrapped around Tam's hand," he says. "Will that do for a souvenir? It's no spent barrier..."

 

"It'll do fine." I shrug into the vest, not taking too much care about whether it covers my breasts or not -- honestly, seeing a breast or two would be good for Obi-Wan. It's one thing to be slack, but it's something else to be terrified by naked female flesh. I grin up at him. "You didn't do half bad in there," I say.

"You didn't do half-bad yourself," he replies. "You could have a secondary career at Rising if you wanted one."

I raise an eyebrow. "Oh, you're one to judge."

"Well, it certainly seemed to be getting Tam off. And you dance better than a lot of the cage dancers I've seen."

"I'm touched," I snort.

"How's the search going?" he asks, taking an opportunity to change the subject.

"Well, it's going," I tell him, pointing at the screen. There's a small bar at the bottom of the monitor that shows the progress through the file system; we're about a third of the way there, with no hits so far. "I'm starting to think you're right about that Force-search," I sigh. "It might almost be easier."

"Ha. You and Xan didn't seem to think so earlier..."

"_Annix_," I correct immediately, glancing back at the bedroom. Tam might be out, but we don't want to take chances.

"You and _Annix_ didn't seem to think so earlier," Obi-Wan corrects, rolling his eyes. "I thought it was a given that the Force-search _wouldn't_ work. Between Force-suppressant collars and the chances of being caught..."

"I love how now that _I'm_ saying it was a good idea you're arguing against it," I sniff at him. Halfway through the search and still nothing.

"Well, I'm good at playing devil's advocate."

"You just like arguing. Especially with Annix. I swear, you two would find a way to disagree on the color of Coruscant's sky, just for the glee of disagreeing. And anyway, there's always the little matter of what happens if they're dead. A Force-search won't do us any good then."

Obi-Wan winces. "I'd rather not think about that."

"I'd rather not have to _deal_ with it, but thinking about it is important. If we find out they're dead, we're going to have to make sure we go on as normal." Two-thirds of the way through, and still nothing. I make an attempt to lighten the mood. "At least we're trapped in a nice dark room together."

Obi-Wan rolls his eyes. I wonder if I could get them to fall straight out of his head if I flirted with him enough. That'd be fun. But then he gestures at the console, and I look over. The search is done, and there are apparently four entries that reference one or the other of our targets. Obi-Wan leans over my shoulder and pulls up the log entries.

"_'...met a would-be dealer named Char Mentassa'_," he reads. "_'Young, and pretty enough. Would make a better pleasure slave than a dealer, though. We'll see.'_" He turns and looks over his shoulder at me. "I don't think I like the sound of that. Do you?"

"Actually, I do." I wave off Obi-Wan's frown and point at the screen. "It sounds like we've been asking the wrong questions. We should be looking at the pleasure slaves Jassock has. And I'm sure she wouldn't object if we went looking for someone to occupy us."

"But what it means is that one of the operatives sent here might have been coerced into service as a pleasure slave--"

"Which is better than his being dead. Imagine if the entry had said _'Discovered a new acquaintance is a spy. Shot him out an airlock.'_" I shake my head.

"The next one might," Obi-Wan points out. He navigates to the next log entry. His eyes narrow. "Oh, this is wonderful. '_Mentassa's young associate showed up today -- Olin Brann. Have arranged quarters for him near Mentassa's.'_" He looks over at me. "So we've got a second pleasure slave. I think we'd better not stay here too long ourselves."

"I'm beginning to agree with you," I tell him. "What do the other entries say?"

He pulls them up and scans them, then shakes his head. "More of the same. '_Mentassa seems to enjoy his time here,_ for the first one, and _Brann had an unfortunate encounter with a Harjabi; at least he's earning us enough to make up for it.'_" He switches the console off and stands up. "Think it sounds like they're still alive?"

I think about it for a few seconds. "Pleasure slaves tend to be expensive," I say. "Once you've got them where you want them, it's cheaper to hang on to the old ones than it is to go around buying new ones all the time. So if they _are_ serving that function here, chances are they're still around somewhere. It'd just be a matter of tracking them down."

"All right," Obi-Wan nods. "Which of us do you think should go to Jassock and ask for... er... entertainment?"

"Both of us." When he rolls his eyes at me again, I push myself out of my chair and press my fingertips to his eyelids. "Stop that. You're going to sprain your eye sockets."

"Don't you think one of us should stay available in case Xa-- _Annix_ comes back?"

"Available for what? Suppose the first person who wants our _attention_\--" I clear my throat and nod at Tam's bedroom "--isn't Annix? We've only got so much Paradigm Shift."

Obi-Wan's mouth opens, then closes. Apparently Mr. Perfect Padawan hadn't thought of that, either. "All right," he says at last. "It would probably be better if we were both looking anyway."

"My thoughts exactly," I grin. I take his hand and tug him toward the doorway. "Come on."

"Right. But your -- your tie-thing," Obi-Wan says, gesturing at my vest. "You'll need to change shirts."

I shake my head and grin. "Looking at my breasts hasn't killed you yet."

"The night is young," Obi-Wan deadpans. I cross my eyes at him and stick out my tongue.

And we head out, back to the party. Next objective -- find out where one picks up a pleasure slave for the evening. Well, who better to ask than another pleasure slave? I wrap my arms around a girl dressed in a gauzy, flowing robe and murmur that my friend and I would like to seek the services of someone like her for the evening, and is there somewhere we can go to look them over?

She looks over her shoulder at me with a very seductive grin. If we weren't on a mission, I'd be tempted. And she looks to be in fairly good health -- maybe 'Char' and 'Olin' are in better shape than I thought.

"Are you looking for something in particular?" she asks. Her voice is like honey, and I can't help grinning.

Obi-Wan's hand comes down on my shoulder. "Someone with endurance," he says. I look up at him, not having to fake the surprised expression on my face. "We don't want to wear him out."

"_Him_, is it?" the girl sighs. "Ah, well. A girl can dream." Honey, I feel your pain. "There are a number of 'endurance' slaves here. If you go down to the fourth sub-basement, you can ask the guard there who's available for the evening."

"Guard?" I ask. "Are some of the endurance slaves... troublesome?"

"Well, you know how it is. Some of them are fighters." She grins, another charming little smile that makes me think about tugging her off to a dark corner somewhere and... I clear my throat and manage to pull my eyes away from her, looking up at Obi-Wan.

"Fighters, huh?" I say. "Can we handle that?"

"Better someone with a little fight to him than someone who gets worn out too fast." Obi-Wan smirks down at me. And then it hits me why he's asking for this particular variety of pleasure slave: any Jedi, undercover or no, would be able to tolerate a good deal more than most. It hadn't occurred to me to think Jedi would make good specialty slaves. I hope I'm covering my disgust; _now_ I'm having the reaction Obi-Wan did when we found out Char and Olin might be pleasure slaves.

Obi-Wan pinches me on the ass, and I yelp, frowning up at him. He shoots me a look -- apparently I wasn't covering my disgust quite as well as I thought. I stick my tongue out at him, which makes him grin. I'm going to be sorry to lose the piercings when we get back to the Temple. The tongue piercing in particular could have advantages. The tragedy of being in a profession where there's such a drab dress code. It's not as if I feel a need for bright green Jedi robes, but sometimes it's a bit disappointing that individuality is discouraged around the Temple. I wonder if Obi-Wan will miss his new getup -- all the piercings, the clothes, the piercings, the hair, the piercings... he never seems to mind the strict rules on behavior when we're "in uniform"; blowing off steam at Rising has always been plenty for him. But he's obviously enjoyed playing "dress-up" on this mission. Do the robes ever bother him? I'll have to ask him sometime.

"Let me comm ahead to the guard on sub-basement four," the girl offers. "You can go on down. I hope you find someone you like." Her eyes dance as she looks at me. "If you don't... well. I'm not an endurance slave, or a 'him'," and she smirks a bit at Obi-Wan, "but for the two of you, I'd be willing to see what I can do."

"You're going to make me hope we don't find what I'm looking for -- _ow_," I mutter, slapping Obi-Wan's hand away from my ass. "Thank you for your help," I finish.

"Any time," she smiles, and we head our separate ways.

"Cute," Obi-Wan murmurs in my ear. "Try not to get distracted."

I pull him over to one of the lifts and wrap my arms around his neck, molding my body to his in the way we've been doing since we started this mission. He seems comfortable enough, wrapping his arms around my waist in return. I nuzzle up against his neck.

"We're _supposed_ to be distracted, remember?" I murmur. "It's _why_ we're going to sub-basement four and looking for an endurance slave."

"There's distracted," Obi-Wan whispers, "and then there's _distracted_." The lift arrives, and he lets me head in first. He wraps me up in his arms again until the doors finish closing, and then pulls away, his smile fading. "What do you suppose the worst-case scenario is?" he asks.

"That they're dead," I answer immediately.

"I only mean -- you've seen what happens to people in places like this. There are things worse than death."

"Death's the one thing we can't fix," I argue. "Memory loss, physical damage, emotional scarring -- all of those things can be healed, given enough time. Let's see if we can find whoever it is we're looking for, and get him upstairs."

"If we don't find him, we might have to... make do with someone else," Obi-Wan points out. "If we do find him and he's been brainwiped, we might actually have to use him for his, ah, intended purpose here, if he's loyal to Jassock for some reason. Are you ready for that?"

"Are you?" I ask. I'm almost surprised he thought of that. These seem like the sorts of ethical questions he can't stand talking about in class.

"Siri, I have no idea what one _does_ with an endurance slave," Obi-Wan murmurs, tilting his head up to look at the lift ceiling. "I'm hoping we find him and he remembers who he is."

I slide an arm around his waist. "There's nothing wrong with optimism," I tell him. "As long as you're ready to do the dirty work if the best-case scenario doesn't work." I give him a squeeze as the lift doors open, and he slides an arm around my shoulders, walking with me up to the guard desk.

The guard looks us over carefully. I suppose we've already been approved for entry, though, because he stands up and turns off the security field, letting us in. Security field. To keep people out of the slave pens, or to keep the slaves in? Probably the latter, given where we are. All the doors in this hallway are open, covered only with more security fields. Tiny blue lines cross the thresholds of each doorway. No privacy, but I suppose that shouldn't surprise me.

Some of the slaves are asleep, some aren't. Some are pacing the short distances of their cells -- quarters, I suppose the owners would call them -- some are still. A few glance up at us with sullen, almost angry eyes; a few are more seductive.

I don't like _any_ of them, and I have to make it look as though every one of them is worth considering. We need a few seconds at each doorway to look for armbands or collars that might be Force-inhibitive. Under his bravado, I can tell Obi-Wan is as nervous and uncomfortable as I am. I can at least understand why we're doing this, and I know if it comes to it, I can do what's required here. I have my doubts as to whether Obi-Wan understands any of this -- our mission, why we have to do things this way, why we gave up our lightsabers. He's going along with it, but this sort of mission isn't for him. Would he be able to _perform_ here? Would he be able to fuck one of these endurance slaves if he needed to? Maybe not, and I don't know if putting him on the kind of drug that would make sure he _can_ would be a good idea.

I think I'm getting ahead of myself. We're not at that point yet.

Obi-Wan's arm tightens around my shoulders when we reach the next cell. As soon as I look inside, I see it -- a dull grey collar around his neck. It's definitely a Force-suppressing collar, one of the cheaper models. I had one on me for a few minutes during a training session once. I spent the next several hours feeling nauseated.

My stomach twists in sympathy as I look at him. He is obviously sick, and the collar's not the only culprit. He's either unconscious or barely-conscious, and he's shuddering. His skin is a dark bronze, but there's almost a green tinge to it, and he's shivering in his sleep. Or something.

"This one," Obi-Wan says, raising his voice so the guard can hear. "How long has he been out? Think he'd wake up if we wanted to play with him?"

"That one's trouble," the guard says. "He just got put back after a few days serving a crew that hadn't seen spacedock in a month. Thirty men and sixteen women and I hear he still managed to give the last of 'em a few bruises."

"That's what we're looking for," I purr, my hand sliding over Obi-Wan's chest. I scratch fingernails down the center of his shirt.

"Can we put him on reserve for when he's had enough time to rest up a bit?" he asks. "Wouldn't want someone fucking him up worse before we have a chance to play with him."

"You wanna book him right now and let him rest here, that's up to you. Credits up front, though."

I can just imagine Obi-Wan wanting to haggle here -- or worse yet, use the Force. We really don't have time for that. The sooner we find Xan, the better. "Fine," I say, before Obi-Wan has a chance to respond. I turn to the guard and slide my hand into my vest, giving him a glimpse of my breasts while I dig a credit chip out of the inside pocket just above the eyelets. The guard is practically drooling on me. "But you have to promise..." And I slide the credit chip out of my vest, trailing it up my neck. "No one gets him other than us." I put the credit chip between my teeth and lean forward, batting my eyelashes at the guard.

The guard leans in and takes the credit chip with his teeth, careful not to bite down on any of the sensitive circuit areas. He reaches around me and squeezes Obi-Wan's ass, making Obi-Wan shove hard against me, startled. "Sure, baby. You know, if you need something to do in the meantime..."

"If he put up enough of a fight to leave bruises with that crew, I think we need some rest ourselves," I purr at him. "But thank you."

He scans the chip and reaches out, peeling my vest aside so he can find the inner pocket and replace the credit chip. Of course, this nets him a good long look at my breasts. I keep a seductive look on my face, but if he gropes me, I'm going to have to deck him. "Anytime. You come back here when you're ready to pick him up." He doesn't try to cop a feel, thank the Force. I wink at him, and it's time to go.

Obi-Wan and I head back for the lift, tangled up in each other all over again. This time when the lift doors close, he doesn't pull away from me. Instead, he lets a long breath out into the back of my neck.

* * *

Obi-Wan and I find ourselves a nice fluffy pile of pillows in the main room of Jassock's place, and settle in for the rest of the evening. Our little exploit in the slave's dungeon has gotten around, it seems, and we have to start shunning offers from other pleasure slaves. I shove Obi-Wan onto his back and sling my legs over his lap, and he doesn't even look startled by it. We seem to have gotten used to nearly having sex in public as a way to keep people from bothering us.

He starts running his fingers up and down the side of my leg, and I start squirming. He gives me this look, one that says _"Oh, stop it"_, and then smirks at me. As if he knows the difference between squirms that I'm putting on for show and ones that happen because he actually knows what he's _doing_. He's good, but I wouldn't call him an expert. I bet his idea of foreplay most of the time is tugging leggings out of the way.

"How are you?" he murmurs. I shift my position so I can slide my arms around his neck, putting myself firmly on his lap. His eyes widen for a moment, and then he puts his hands on my hips, stroking his fingers against the bare skin just above the waist of my leather pants. "You feel good," he says, loud enough for others to hear if they're listening in.

"Oh, I _am_ good," I purr at him, just as loud. I lean in to brush my lips against his ear. "I'd be a lot happier if we knew where Annix has been all this time," I breathe.

Obi-Wan drags his fingernails up my back. He drops his voice low enough that we're unlikely to be overheard, and begins grinding up against me. "We know he was drugged and taken somewhere..."

"Right," I tell him, arching my back and groaning a bit for effect. "We haven't heard from him since..."

"We don't exactly have the ability to check in with him every hour," Obi-Wan points out, lips moving against my neck. He licks at my skin, and I can feel his tongue stud moving against my skin. I've been with lots of beings who know just what to do with a tongue stud, but Obi-Wan isn't one of them. He needs _lots_ more practice.

"No. But now that we know what Jassock _does_ when she finds out there are Jedi spies in her midst--" I arch up again, digging my fingernails into his shoulders, letting my eyes close and squirming in his lap.

"Stop that." He puts both hands on my hips and holds me so I can't move, and it takes me a moment to realize he didn't mean _stop talking_, he meant _stop squirming_. I look up at him and can't help smirking a bit myself.

"What's the matter?" I tease. "Am I getting you all hot and bothered?" I slide my fingertips around the collar of his mesh shirt, scratching his skin a bit as I go.

He lets out a breath and rolls his eyes. "Come back and nibble on my earlobe some more," he tells me.

"Gladly," I purr, and I lean forward to do just that. After all, if my lips are going to be here anyway, I might as well get some use out of it... even if his piercings _do_ get in the way.

"Tease," he mutters. He lowers his voice again so no one else will overhear. "I don't think Jassock would try to kidnap Annix. Not this soon."

"Why not?" I whisper. My lips trace a path along the shell of his ear. He lets out a soft groan, and his hands tighten on my hips.

"Because..." Obi-Wan growls a bit, finally twisting and reversing our positions. Now it's him on top, me under him, and my arms snake up around his neck as he settles himself between my legs. "She doesn't have his money yet." He leans down, and his voice lowers even further. "And I am _not_ hot and bothered, I'll have you know."

I gape at him. In this position, it's obvious his body's not objecting to me at all -- he might not be completely hard, but that's not a lightsaber in his pocket. "I agree with you about Annix," I tell him. "And there's nothing _wrong_ with being turned on by a girl, _Ben_." Obi-Wan's cover name is the only one I have trouble remembering, since it has little in common with his real name, but he seems to answer to it readily enough.

"Can we stick to talking about the mission?" He puts a hand in my hair and tugs lightly -- hoping to break the mood, maybe? Oh, he's just playing into my hands. We were looking for an _endurance_ slave earlier. Maybe we _like_ to play like this. I let my eyes flutter closed and wince alluringly. Obi-Wan goes entirely still and stops tugging at my hair immediately. Spoilsport.

"All right," I mutter. I scratch at the back of his neck, and he starts up again, rubbing up against me -- no, that's definitely not a lightsaber in his pocket. "I think if Jassock found something out about Annix, we'd be next on the list," I whisper. "Because chances are, whatever interrogation techniques she had wouldn't work on him. She'd bring us in to use against him. Happy now?"

"Not particularly," Obi-Wan grunts. "But that's probably true. How long do you think he'll be gone?"

"Depends on what he's found." I muffle a groan and tighten both arms around his neck. "All right, _you_ might not be getting hot and bothered here, but this is going to drive me insane. I think we need to stop. Or _not_ stop. Whichever's easier for you." My knees tighten around his hips.

"Listen -- it's not that I don't _like_ you," he hisses. "If I were _going_ to sleep with a girl, I can't imagine doing it with anyone else."

"That's very flattering, but it doesn't do anything about the fact that having you between my legs is turning me on," I mutter at him. "Maybe you should climb off me now, hm? And we can 'get a room' or something."

"Here's my problem," he says, and he grinds his hips down into mine so I can tell _precisely_ what his problem is. "I don't really want to walk around like this."

"Oh, and you think continuing to squirm on me will make that go away? I have news for you, Ben..."

"Don't let me interrupt you," says a new voice, and Obi-Wan and I look up and grin.

"Annix!" I say, tugging an arm free so I can wrap it around his neck. Obi-Wan wriggles half-off me and lunges for Xan, planting his mouth firmly on Xan's. Xan takes it all in stride, settling himself down next to me so his lips are within range of my ear and Obi-Wan can lie down across both of us.

"Been having a good time, pets?" Xan asks, and his voice is easily loud enough for others to hear.

"You have no idea," Obi-Wan tells him. "We found this gorgeous boy in the endurance slave pens..."

For some reason I expect that news to make Xan tense a bit, but he doesn't. The consummate professional -- someday I hope my poker face is as good. "Endurance, huh?" he asks. "Where's the boy?"

"Well, he was _asleep_," I pout. "What good's an endurance slave if the fight's already out of him?" Obi-Wan moves so he's fully on top of Xan, and I snuggle in beside both of them, running my hand down Obi-Wan's body and squeezing his ass hard.

"Not a bad point," Xan smiles, leaning up to lick at Obi-Wan's lips. "He have a name?"

"Who cares?" Obi-Wan growls, grinding his hips down into Xan. He whispers, "He's the one we want."

"Then you'll have to have him, won't you?" Xan grins. The grin is vicious, and surprisingly attractive. "I picked up a nice little piece of ass myself. He's not talking much, but you wouldn't believe what he can do. I bought him."

"You _bought_ someone?" I can see Obi-Wan's cover fracturing a bit. He looks horrified.

At first, I'm a bit shocked, too. But what reason would Xan have for buying a slave? I press myself close enough to both of them that the three of us could communicate through thoughts, and try to make it clear to Xanatos that I'm ready for that sort of interaction. We still aren't very good at sending our thoughts to each other unless Xan acts as a conduit. When Xan's between us, it's like talking in a crowded room. When he's not, it's like trying to mutter at each other at a distance of fifty paces. Underwater.

"Bought someone?" I echo, lifting my eyebrows at both of them. "You've been looking for a new pleasure slave for a while, haven't you?"

"You have?" Obi-Wan gasps.

The shock is starting to get far too obvious. I try sending a thought to Obi-Wan -- _Trust Xan! Do you really think it's a pleasure slave he's found?_ \-- but nothing happens. I do my best to cover for his reaction in an external fashion, giving Xan a pout and leaning up to nibble at Obi-Wan's ear. "Does that mean you won't want _us_ anymore?" I ask. "You'll still like us best, won't you, Annix?"

"Of course I will." He pulls Obi-Wan's face down and kisses him hard. Obi-Wan doesn't pull away, but I can feel how tense he is. Oh, not good.

I climb up on top of Obi-Wan, pressing my lips to the back of his neck. "It's all right," I murmur. "You know you're still his favorite."

"You don't need a pleasure slave," Obi-Wan insists. And then he leans his forehead against Xan's and sends a thought. //Are you out of your mind? Slavery is _illegal_. That contract isn't binding on either of you, and what business do you have _buying slaves_?// It must be the anger giving him the necessary strength to do this. I'll have to keep that in mind.

//Stop looking so horrified,// Xan sends back -- much more calmly than Obi-Wan. //He's the other Jedi. _Think_, padawan. What's the fastest way to leave with a pleasure slave? You buy him and bring him home. Everyone's happy. No one gets hurt.//

//But--//

//We think ours is the younger one,// I interrupt, blowing gently into Obi-Wan's ear. A shudder runs through Obi-Wan's body, and he presses down against Xan. Not acting this time. Disgusted, scared, uncertain, and sandwiched between me and Xanatos, so maybe there's a bit of lust there, too. Poor guy. Somehow I doubt this is how he expected to be dealing with his first covert op.

"We need to get back to the ship," Xan says. "I don't think we need to give these people a show, do you?"

"Definitely not," Obi-Wan growls.

"Pity," I sigh.

//Jal's on the ship already,// Xan sends as we pull ourselves off the floor.

//Jal...?// I ask.

//Char,// Xan corrects immediately. //The operative with the code name Char.// One arm around each of us, he begins leading us out of the room.

"But our boy," I point out immediately -- and then I force my voice into a whine. I need to look like I'm pouting, not worried. "I don't want to leave here before I get to fuck him."

"Later," Xan growls.

I put a hand on Xan's arm. He needs the rest of the information. //We have a bid on his time. He looked terrible -- unconscious, shaking. Even if we'd been able to get him away from the guards, he wouldn't have been able to talk to us. That's the only reason he's not here with us now.//

//All right. When do you need to fetch him?// There's a trace of disgust in Xan's thoughts, which startles me a bit. We haven't done anything he hasn't done. We found the second operative.

//What's the problem?// I ask Xan.

//_Nothing_,// he repeats. //When do we need to fetch him?//

Nothing, huh? //I think it can wait until morning,// I send.

//Siri, that's another twelve hours,// Obi interrupts. //We don't have to wait, do we? If we could get him to the ship, we'd have both of them. We could make a break for it.//

//You can't simply leave a complex with a pleasure slave,// Xan interrupts. //We'd have to buy him. And we don't have the credits for that anymore. What I had to spend on Char nearly wiped us out.//

//And it might look suspicious if a spice dealer comes in, buys two pleasure slaves, and leaves without finishing the drug deal,// I add.

I can feel Obi-Wan's irritation. //But we have our mission objective staring us in the face. All we have to do is smuggle Olin out...//

//Calm down, Obi,// Xan sends. //They've been here this long. Olin can wait. If you have a bid on his time, nothing further will happen to him before we see him again.// He hugs me tight and turns to Obi-Wan, planting a kiss on his forehead. //Patience, Padawan.//

Obi-Wan still doesn't trust Xan. But Xan's in charge here. //All right,// Obi-Wan finally agrees. //Let's go back to the ship.//

One arm around each of us, Xan helps us up and guides us to the airlock. At least we've got one of them out. We know where the other is. Now it's a matter of seeing whether or not we can get them both out without anyone getting killed.

_-end-_


End file.
